


No Fortress is So Strong

by telemachus



Series: Rising-verse [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Combing, Fluff, Gen, Love, M/M, weird elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you don't fall in love. Sometimes it creeps up on you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fortress is So Strong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consumptive_sphinx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/gifts).



> A Birthday gift for Snow_Glows_Blue, who wanted to know more about the twins in the Rising-verse......
> 
> (not quite on time, sorry. Happy Birthday anyway.)
> 
>  

Arwen now – our little sister, even she is – changing. 

Talking about – love. 

Only she doesn't mean – love – she means – oh, I don’t know – but – marrying. 

I don’t know who she thinks she can marry.

We call ourselves Noldor – but – well. In my heart, I know it isn’t quite true. We aren’t Noldor, we are not even true-elves.

Nor mortals.

Not anything.

Not really.

We don’t fit anywhere, don’t belong with anyone.

Sometimes I envy ‘Dan. He makes life simple – problem equals enemy, solution equals hit it with a sword.

Sometimes, I think it would be better to be like that, and I wonder – if we were not twins – if he was truly the older – then – maybe, maybe it would be me who was expected to learn to command the knights, maybe he would be sat in here learning customs and diplomacy. 

But we are twins. 

Always each other’s reflection, always seen as opposites.

And – mostly – I do not mind, mostly, I am glad to be as we are.

But sometimes – I wonder.

I wonder whether the differences of which everyone speaks – and how hard they must look to see them – I wonder whether we were always so, or if we have grown this way. If we had said – no, no, we do not want to be separated, we want to train together, to learn everything together – would everyone still say that he is Glorfindel’s prodigy, as I Erestor’s?

Or is that just what they all expect to see?

What Ada wants them to see?

Does Ada plan to wed us to – I do not know – but – two contrasting elleths? Perhaps one Silvan, one Sindar. To show our allegiance to all elven-kind.

To show we are not mortal.

Only – if Ada plans our weddings – that shows us as not-elves more than anything else he could do.

Then I catch my thoughts, and I am overthinking, making problems where there are none – and while Erestor is not one to do that, certainly Glorfindel is not one to stop to think at all. 

So maybe they are right.

Still.

I wish there was not so much change.

We have been happy so many, many years, our family – and as I think it, I think also – see, not a proper elf. Proper elves would not see this time as many years, would not count it at all.

But now – Naneth is gone.

‘Dan – ‘Dan is only happy when he is killing orcs. Not before, not after, not at feasts, nor with wine, nor – nor when we comb with others.

He is – lost to me – and I – I do not know what to do.

Ada retreats into his books, and lore, and talks of duty. He becomes sadder and more quiet by the day, it seems, and I – I do not know how to reclaim him, how to cheer him, and though he is still the loving father we rely on, there is no – joy – left in him. I do not know what he sees in our futures, but – it does not seem to make him happy.

Arwen talks of marrying – of her own home – of leaving here.

And now – now gossip says – and elves being elves, gossip is reliable – that Erestor and Glorfindel have come to some agreement. That they are – combing together. Speaking of love, of vows to be taken when they can, when duty permits.

And for all that I have – we all have – thought of them as Erestor and Glorfindel for so long, thought of them as – as bookends, a pair that prop up this House – yet still to find that they wish to be – to be GlorfindelandErestor – is – unnerving.

Everyone wants to be a pair.

Everyone wants to belong.

Except – I don’t.

I don’t know how, I don’t understand.

Ada is lost without Naneth, and I don’t know why he stayed if he doesn't want to be with us – but – he has said, he will not comb, or only if we need him – he does not wish to comb for his own sake.

I think – we haven’t spoken of it – but – surely no elf could say that? It must be the mixed blood coming out.

If Ada isn’t a true-elf – then – we aren’t either.

Arwen wants to marry, wants to find her one-to-comb-with, one-to-vow-with.

‘Dan – I suppose it will not be long before ‘Dan comes back from one of these expeditions, one of these raids which Glorfindel leads while I am left at home, and – and tells me that this warrior has caught his eye, that he wishes to comb with him – or her – that they will be vowed.

Or married.

And I – I will be left.

Thinking of it chills me, and I shiver.

True-elves don’t shiver.

Erestor sees me, and asks if I am well. He wouldn’t say that to a true elf.

“Yes,” I say, “I simply – miss ‘Dan, I worry about him.”

A part of me wants to hear that he misses Glorfindel, that he feels this also – but – he is Erestor. Nothing touches him.

I cannot imagine why Glorfindel wishes to vow with him, or how – how he could ever have found the courage to suggest it. I suppose courage is not something Glorfindel lacks.

Erestor raises his eyebrow, a gesture Ada tries to imitate, but – Ada is not so cold, not so impartial as Erestor, and I would not flinch in quite the same way.

Only Ada does not notice me – any of us – now.

 

 

 

He truly does not, I think next day, when the expedition returns.

Arwen and I are there to greet them, to welcome ‘Dan, there are, as there always are, elves standing around, pretending to sing foolish songs, to have nothing serious on their minds – when – actually – they are waiting to see if their friends, their combmates, are home safely.

Ada – Ada is not there.

Erestor is there – he greets Glorfindel, as he always has, always does, with touch of hands to ears, and – and something is said I cannot hear, then louder,

“Our lord Elrond awaits you in his study, but, seneschal,” and I wonder why Erestor is always so careful to use the title, “if you will be guided by my words, you will wash and refresh yourself first.”

Glorfindel nods, and shouts to his company as they disperse, telling them when he expects to see them on the practice grounds, praising them, all the usual. 

‘Dan is still talking.

Arwen shrugs, catches my eye,

“I think we are not needed,” she says, and wanders off – as Arwen does.

I – I just stand there.

All the elves are leaving the courtyard now.

Except ‘Dan and – and another. 

She is not someone I know well. 

‘Dan seems to.

I feel a touch on my shoulder, I turn, and it is Erestor,

“They are just talking,” he says, quietly, and when his eyes meet mine, I see a most unexpected sympathy, and understanding in them, “wait a moment or so more.”

I nod, and for the first time, I wonder how he feels when the troop rides in, when all eyes are on Glorfindel, when all listen and smile, and watch as our champion is the centre of every feast, every rejoicing, every party. Every event which Erestor organises.

Then ‘Dan is here, is touching my ears, and his hands brush my hair, and I – I am touching him also, and – and we look at each other, and I – I know how Erestor feels.

He cares nothing for any of it.

Nothing matters, so long as the one you wait for comes home safely.

And suddenly, suddenly I understand.

There is one place I belong, one place I am right, I fit, one place I was meant to be.

“Next time,” I say, “I am coming with you. I have missed you, tor-nin –“

“And I also, tor-nin,” he says, before I can finish, as he does, “I missed you, and I – I would not ride again without you – “

“No,” I say, “not one of us, both – “

“And – I have been thinking – “  
“thinking – I would – “  
“would offer – “

“offer you – “

“my comb,” we end together.

Together.

And then – we are laughing, and looking at each other, and our hands are on ears, and in hair, and – and then we lean in so our foreheads touch, and we just – look.

Somewhere I hear a sigh – two sighs, but so close they may as well be one.

“I think,” Erestor says, “you will need to rework your patrol rota, mellon-nin, and I – I shall have either two pupils or none.”

Glorfindel laughs – as Glorfindel always laughs.

“Finally,” he says, “finally boys, you have worked it out. Go on, tonight’s meal will be sent to your rooms, will it not Erestor-nin? Go and talk, and comb, and sing.”

But – we are not listening.

Not really.

Because we – we need never doubt our place again.

My place is here, with him, and he with me.

One in two, that is how we are. 

Ada will not like this news, I think, and I know ‘Dan is thinking the same, but – he wanted us to be elves.

Elves can love like this, can choose to be vowed to their brother forevermore.

As if it were a choice.

It is how the world is supposed to be.

How we are supposed to be.

ElladanandElrohir.

**Author's Note:**

> _When brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life - Antisthenes_


End file.
